


A Debt Repaid

by dragyn42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-21
Updated: 2010-02-21
Packaged: 2020-03-07 00:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18862147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragyn42/pseuds/dragyn42
Summary: By order of the Ministry, she is now classified a Dark Lady for the methods used in saving his life. Unfortunately, several other Dark Wizards need a virgin sacrifice. Time for a debt to be repaid.





	A Debt Repaid

**Author's Note:**

> Exchange: wizard-love 2010  
> For: csi_tokyo3
> 
> This was a lot of fun. I really liked writing from this character’s point of view, watching her make the decisions she did. Thank you, csi_tokyo3, so much for the prompt that brought it all about, and I really hope you enjoy it.

She hated the Wizarding world, she really did. Actually, that wasn’t true, as much as she tried to make herself believe it. She hated most of the people _in_ the Wizarding world right now, but all her friends were still there. And they were doing their best to help her, to keep her fed, clothed and safe until they could clear her name. _He_ had so far provided most of her supplies, though he could never deliver them himself.

In fact, he was the reason for her current predicament. She saved him, he saved the world, and she was outcast. Of course, after all those years of watching how the Wizarding world treated him, she really should have expected something like this. The wizards in charge didn’t like it when their primary benefactors were cut down with Cutting Hexes from behind. That said benefactors had the Dark Mark and were in the process of casting the Killing Curse seemed to make no-never-mind to them.

Her actions had branded her a Dark Witch by the Ministry. She knew he was fighting it, her family and friends were fighting it, but the Ministry was as corrupt and stubborn as it always was. There didn’t seem to be any amount of reform that could actually change its nature. And so, in the year and half she had been on the run, while her friends and family provided her food and supplies, the Ministry was watching carefully for any sign of her.

Even then, that was only half of the issue.

In her most recent travels, she stumbled across a rumor. It seemed that many of the so called ‘Dark Wizards’ – and Witches, they got very tetchy if they were left out – were becoming more and more frustrated with their lot life. Some new charismatic leader, he went by the name Octavian, had riled them all up. He preyed on their anger and convinced them that taking control from the Ministry would free them.

He had the perfect plan, too. Or so the rumors claimed. There was a ritual that would give their entire group the power needed to take the Ministry by force. It involved the unwilling sacrifice of a Dark Witch virgin – a rare thing – and he knew where to find one. To sacrifice the one who saved _him_ , the one they turned on, and use her to overthrow _them_...

Needless to say, she knew exactly who this Dark Wizard was referring to. And it was time to call in a favor.

That was how she found herself now outside his house, about to take advantage of Harry Potter, The Boy Who Defeated Voldemort. She knew he was home, and that his live in lovers were away. Harry’s obligations prevented him from hunting for whatever it was Lovegood was looking for, and Weasley was off with the Harpies.

She really hated that she was about to do this, but her life depended on it.

Knocking on the door, she looked around and noticed a shadowy figure. She knew they were watching his house, they were waiting for her. But they also knew her sister often visited when the other girls were away. That’s what she counted on, and it seemed to work.

The door opened and there he stood, his hair a bit messier than normal and wearing flannel bottoms and a white t-shirt. He had obviously not been expecting anyone, but he covered it well.

“I thought you might like some company,” she greeted his inquisitive gaze.

He gave a quick glance over her shoulder and she could only assume the Auror was making a move. Harry must be taking too long inviting her in. “Of course, your company is always welcome. Come on in.”

She hadn’t had the chance to see his place given her constant running from the law. It was cozy. The living room had a thick, comfy looking throw rug over the hardwood floor in front of the stone hearth. There were pictures of Harry and his friends and what he considered family displayed across the mantle. The sofa looked soft and inviting – though that could have been because she had slept on a straw mattress for the last three weeks – one that seemed to resist all attempts at transfiguration.

Harry sat on one side of the sofa against the arm, and patted the cushion next to him, “Have a seat.”

She breathed a tiny sigh of relief, her ruse was working. Sitting against the opposite arm, facing him, and wearing a smile very much like her sister’s, she asked “So, how have things been?”

“Not bad,” he replied, his eyebrow quirking at her. “We’ve almost got enough backing to get those insane ‘Dark Laws’ overturned. Hermione is brilliant at trapping the hardliners in a net of logic they can’t escape from. Slowly but surely they’re coming to see they have to change their way of thinking.”

“That’s... really good news.”

Harry nodded. “And of course, there’s Luna’s little side project. She and the Aurors should see some results within the month.”

“Wow,” she commented. She had very little idea what he was talking about, but apparently her sister knew. She would play along, though. “That’s good to hear.”

Kreacher popped into the room and placed a wine bucket on the coffee table. He poured a dark, chilled red into some stemware and handed each of them a glass. He left the rest of the bottle in the bucket before popping back out of the room.

She sipped the wine, and she noticed how warm the room was. Of course, she was still wearing her threadbare, heavy cloak against the outside chill. Standing up, she placed her glass on the table and removed the outdoor garment, revealing a very form-fitting, tight, black blouse and plaid skirt. It wasn’t her first choice in clothing, but it’s all she could get her hands on. Judging by the look on Harry’s face, he didn’t mind in the least.

“Wow, looking like that, I’d think you were trying to seduce me,” he commented.

“Maybe I am,” she teased back. She felt horrible. She knew from everyone who helped her that he was very happy with his current relationship. Unfortunately, she needed to do this and didn’t know anyone else that she would want to do this with. She hadn’t fallen that far, yet.

Harry, of course, would have done it in an instant had she actually told him what was going on, but like all his friends, she knew it would be out of a sense of obligation. Her pride wouldn’t allow that. This would happen, and it would be of his own free will.

His eyes roved up and down her body, visibly tracing her curves. His gaze made her feel better about herself than she had in quite a while. When others looked at her in this way, she felt like a piece of meat. With Harry, she felt... human.

“If you were, I’m not sure I’d say no,” he countered with a slight grin quirked on his lips.

She took her glass back off the table, carefully hiding her sudden need to rush, and slowly finished the glass, allowing the heat from the alcohol burn its way down her throat and calm her fraying nerves, while Harry watch her shapely neck as she swallowed. Seduction had been her goal in coming here, though she thought it would take longer, giving her time to steel her nerves. This was going much faster than expected, and she had never done this before, after all.

As she refilled her glass, he spoke once again, a little bit of a burr entering his voice, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone drink wine in quite so sexy a manner.”

Her breath hitched and her hand started to shake. She was afraid she might spill the wine over the table. Forcing her hand to still, she smiled her best sultry smile and held the bottle towards him. He looked at his mostly empty glass and held it out for her to fill, which she managed without spilling anything.

Time. She needed time to settle. But that didn’t seem to be in the plans anymore.

He held out his glass and offered her a toast as she sat back down on the sofa, now closer to him than before. “To injustices, soon to be corrected.”

Eyeing him carefully, she wondered if he suspected. Although, it would be something easily said to her sister as well. She knew her sister missed her horribly. The occasional clandestine meetings just didn’t fill the gap in her heart, or her sister’s.

“To freedom,” she countered.

They clicked glasses and downed the contents. The wine was heady and she realized she hadn’t eaten well for quite some time. She was left with a surreal feeling about the entire situation, but at least her hands had stopped shaking.

“So, did you want to?” he interrupted her thoughts.

“Want to?”

“Seduce me? Did you really want to?”

The smile he offered her sent shivers through her stomach. He was going to let her do this. She would be safe.

“What about...?”

“They’re not here, are they?” he answered her uncertain question with a wry one.

Her wine glass slid out of her hand onto the floor and she slid her way across the cushion, closing the distance between them. His striking, green eyes, one of her favorite features, never left hers. Her hand came up carefully and cupped his face, the heel on his jaw, her fingers tracing his eye. The contrast of her brown skin against his white attracted her in a way she never expected.

Screwing up her courage, she leaned in, tilted her face, and kissed him. It wasn’t light, she didn’t want to appear unsure, but it wasn’t harsh or desperate either. He responded to her kiss with controlled enthusiasm. His experience was tangible, and her uncertainty slowly drained from her as she tasted the wine on his tongue.

His hands appeared on her shoulders, their strong, firm presence an anchor to the feelings that were overtaking her. She slid the hand that had seemed to forget it was on his face around him, caressing the back of his neck. Her other moved of its own accord, wrapping around his lower torso, resting in the small of his back.

She was not new to kissing boys, though it had been a while since she had a chance to do so with one she may have cared for. School seemed a lifetime ago as opposed to the eighteen months that it truly was. But even then, this was nothing like what she remembered.

The wine must have been stronger than she thought, or she was hungrier than she figured, but her head began to swim. It was when Harry pulled away and she was able to breathe once more that she realized the wine had little to do with her condition.

Harry’s hands were busy. She was only just starting to breath normally when she discovered that he had already successfully unbuttoned her black blouse, and it was now hanging off her shoulders leaving her front exposed to warmth of the living room. There was a comfort to the air of his home not found even in the outdoor heat of the summer, alone and on the run.

His hands brushed across her flesh, and she moaned at the loss of contact when they moved over her bra. The delicious pressure caused her nipples to tighten and press against the cheap material. In fact, it was first time she was glad that her possessions were not the pricey daily wear she had back in school. All Harry had to do was hook his fingers through the front and pull, the shoddy stitching tearing apart with little resistance.

Attempting to help him remove what was left of the undergarment, she discovered that the movement of her arms was now limited by the hanging shirt.

“Sshhh, let me,” he crooned, sliding the hanging cups of cloth and the attached straps around her back and tossing the remnants on the floor. “So perfect,” he murmured staring at her now exposed breasts, the nubs at the tips aching at their sudden freedom.

Harry’s hands were surprisingly gentle as they kneaded her, sparks of sensation shooting through her body as he massaged. She wanted to free her arms and grab him, feel his skin under her hands, but she only managed in tangling herself further. All thought of helping him left, though, when he kissed her jawline, moving his way down her neck, over her chest, and stopping to suckle at her breasts.

She gasped at the entirely new sensation. She moaned further as his now free hand glided down her flat stomach, stopping to circle her belly button. She lost contact with his hand briefly when he reached the waistline of her skirt, but then felt his hand move under the garment, sliding up her inner thigh, and pressing against her womanhood over her knickers.

A whole new world of sensations was opening for her. She had masturbated before – she didn’t know of a single female friend who hadn’t – but she had never allowed any of her boyfriends to wander this far. These feelings caused by someone else’s hand were more intense, more intimate and definitely more pleasurable than anything she had managed to produce in herself.

Even though she had come to seduce him, she was quickly losing control of everything as his hand rubbed up and down and his mouth continued laving first at once breast, then the other and back again – and she no longer cared about control. It was obvious where this was heading, and his ministrations were quickly removing her ability for coherent thought.

His hand, the one not at her sex, pushed at her sternum, and she laid back on the sofa. He flipped her skirt up over her stomach and grabbed the crotch of her knickers – the same cheap type as her errant bra – and ripped them off.

She groaned a complaint when he stood up from her, but she saw he was removing his own clothing. She admired the shape of his torso, and she gasped in shock when his bottoms dropped, proving her earlier assumption that he had hastily dressed as he was sans underwear, and she caught site of _him_.

Girls talk, and her room mates were no different. She had heard the stories, and done her best to determine truth from exaggeration, but this exceeded all her expectations. She was sure that he was only a little above average, but nothing could prepare her for seeing one in its erect state. She thought she would have been scared, wondering the ifs and hows of it fitting, but instead she just became even more aroused. He had worked her up quite well.

He knelt on the sofa, pulling off her shoes before bending over so that he was supporting himself on his arms. He was now kissing just above her knee. She sighed at the return of contact. Slowly crawling up her body, he left a trail of wet kisses up her thigh, inside, towards her center. He paused his upwards movement for a short period as he placed several more kisses directly at her junction, licking her arousal and causing her to screech at the sensation. She screeched again when bolts of pleasure shot throughout her being as he placed even more kisses directly on her clit.

Then he continued his path, crawling up her body, kissing his way over her stomach, licking the underside of her breasts, kissing and sucking at their peaks, and moving up her chest, neck and chin until he was attacking her willing mouth. She might have had an ulterior motive for doing this, but now she wanted nothing more than what was coming for its own sake.

“Ready?” he whispered into her mouth.

It was all she could do to groan her assent back into him.

She felt the pressure down there, bigger, softer and more pliant than anything she had done to herself. But the moment of truth was coming. No matter what she used to play, she had done her best to maintain her actual virginity for, well... this. And then she felt herself stretch around him as the tip popped past her entrance.

He pushed into her, slowly, sensuously. She was stretching in ways she never had before, feeling the sensations of his sliding friction inside her for the first time ever. There was some discomfort of the new experience, but only some. She thought she could lose herself in this for the rest of her days.

And then she felt a new pressure. He was about to complete her reason for coming here, not that she cared what that was anymore. His slow entry continued, the pressure increasing, almost painfully, until there was a tearing, a brief stinging, and he was inside of her.

She was full. Her friends had used that statement before, but now she understood it. There was something empty inside her, but she hadn’t known it until now. And now, she was no longer empty. She felt... complete. And then she wasn’t.

Harry was pulling out of her with the same slow movement he used to enter her, and the friction almost made her forget that ‘full’ feeling that was going away. A moan escaped from her lips when it felt as if he was going to pull out completely, but then he reversed and was pushing back into her once more.

This repetition continued, and each time his movement seemed just a little faster. Deep inside of her, something was building. Again, it was something she had felt before, but never like this. It grew with his speed. The faster he moved, the further it grew, expanding within her, taking over her being. She was barely able to make out that he was now moving quite vigorously, his hips colliding with hers audibly, his pelvis repeatedly hitting her clit causing further shots of lighting through her, adding to the building explosion waiting for release.

And explode she did. When it felt as if her body could no longer physically contain the growing pressure deep inside her, and even further than that, her world become nothing but white and stars and Harry still moving within her. Someone was screeching and she was pretty sure it was her, but it was behind a wall of cotton, the white hot consuming everything she was. Her lungs were burning as she tried to draw air. Stars flashed black over the white that was her world. Blackness was encroaching on her very existence.

She could breath. She could see. She could feel Harry still moving within her. Her head swam with its newfound freedom from the sensations that had consumed her.

Just when she started to comprehend that she was still actually having sex, Harry gave one final push. She could feel him grow just a little bit bigger inside of her. And then there was a pulsing as Harry cried out, “Parvati!”

Harry collapsed onto her, pressing her into the soft cushions of the sofa. Her breasts were crushed between them under his weight, but it was comfortable. At some point during their activities, one of her arms had freed itself from her sleeve, allowing her the use of both her limbs, which she wrapped around Harry, squeezing him into a hug.

They laid on the sofa for an indeterminable amount of time catching their breath, reveling their post-orgasmic bliss. But then Parvati’s thought started to reassert themselves.

“How did you know?” she asked.

“Hmm?” he articulated.

“That it was me and not my sister? How did you know?”

“For one thing,” he mumbled, “She wasn’t supposed to be here until later.”

“What?”

“She wasn’t supposed to be here until later,” he repeated. “And usually, though not always, she just walks in the back door, out of view of my watchers.”

His words were coming more clearly now, but she was slow in processing what he was saying.

“The back?” She was worrying now. “But the Aurors...”

“I said usually. She comes through the front every once in a while, just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case of you needing to show up and not coming in from the back.”

She could hear him smiling. But her mind was catching up. “You said ‘later.’ She’s supposed to be here?”

“I am,” came a familiar voice. “Through the back door, thankfully.”

“Padma?” breathed Parvati, pushing against Harry so she could sit up.

Harry obliged by rolling out of the way, and Parvati sat up to look over the back of the sofa. Her sister was there, leaning against the doorway, a smirk on her face and joyful tears in her eyes.

“Padma!” shrieked Parvati, vaulting over the sofa and wrapping her sister with her naked body in a hug. She began to cry into her sister’s shirt.

“Hey, Par,” comforted Padma.

After several more minutes of Padma rubbing her sister’s back, Parvati managed to stop her sniffling and took a deep breath, slowly, reluctantly stepping away from her sister.

“So,” grinned Padma, “Amazing, wasn’t it?”

Parvati smiled back at her sister and said, “Yeah. I never imagined it would be like... wait.”

“That’s the other reason I knew who you were,” said Harry from the couch as he smiled at the sisterly reunion.

Parvati’s head moved back and forth between Padma and Harry. “You mean, you...”

“I know for a fact your sister isn’t a virgin,” confirmed Harry.

“But... Ginny? Luna?” Parvati was confused.

“Who do you think keeps me apprised of when Harry is going to be alone. He’s way too involved in other things to take care of himself, so his girls have to do it for him.”

“They also make sure I’m taken care of when they’re not here.”

Parvati’s knees felt like they were going to give out on her. Her sister caught her around the waist and guided her back over to the sofa, sitting her between Harry and herself. Her world seemed to shift once more under the revelations of the past few minutes, and Harry and Padma were now cradling her from either side.

“You...” she started, trying to put her thoughts into words. “Just in case, you said. You knew I might show up.”

“You saved my life, Parvati, I will never forget that. If you came asking to repay the favor, I wanted to make sure you had the chance to ask.”

“It worked,” said Parvati.

“What?” asked Padma.

“It worked, I was able to get to Harry so he could repay the favor.”

“What are you talking about, Parvati?” Harry sounded a bit concerned.

“You’ve just saved my life, that’s what. Some Dark Wizard decided he needed a virgin Dark Witch for a sacrifice. He wanted me.”

There was silence for a moment, and Parvati saw Harry and Padma share a surprised look over her head.

“Oh dear,” said Padma. “That’s not an outcome we thought of.”

“What’s going on?” asked Parvati.

“It’s like this: Luna stumbled across something interesting. There’s a magical way to actually determine a ‘Dark’ wizard or witch. Their magic mixes with their emotions and does something to them. Luna figured out a spell that shows it.”

Parvati was looking at her sister incredulously. “Then... that means...”

Her sister nodded and Harry picked up the explanation, “We started a rumor about a ritual that could help them overthrow the Ministry. We’re using it to flush them out. Luna is with Aurors right now, tracking them down. Once we have them, she can prove her spell works.”

“It will then prove beyond a doubt that you’re not a Dark Witch, Par. You’ll be free.”

“Free,” she wondered. It was what she had waited quite a while for. She would have her life back, her friends back. “But that means... I didn’t need to...”

“Need to what, sleep with me?” surmised Harry. “Parvati, are you sorry you did it?”

She thought about it. She was sorry she tried to trick him, though that didn’t work too well. But was she really sorry it happened? No. In fact, she would love to do it again. And if she was free, and his girls let her help ‘take care’ of Harry... “No, I’m really not.”

“Neither am I.”

Parvati instantly felt better about everything. Something must have been bothering her, but his acceptance made it go away. She was going to be free. Harry liked being with her. Her life was coming together.

“And I have news,” Padma interrupted her thoughts. “Luna got word to me, they’ve almost caught up to him. By tomorrow at the latest, they’ll have him. By the end of the week, you’ll be free, Par. You’ll be free.”

Parvati could hear the hopeful hitch in her sister’s voice.

“Stay here, at my house,” said Harry.

“I... I couldn’t do that to you, Harry. Until I’m cleared, I couldn’t put you in that position.”

“Bull,” said Harry. “All the supplies I’ve gotten for you? All the work I’ve put into clearing you? This is nothing, Parvati. Padma will leave tomorrow through the front door. They’ll never know you’re here. It’s only a couple days, and then it won’t matter.”

“When was the last time you slept in a bed?” asked Padma. “I mean a _real_ bed?”

That did it. The fight was over. She nodded her head.

“Come on, Harry’s bed is _really_ comfortable.”

“No, I... Wait...”

“Let’s show her, Harry.”

A naked Harry and a dressed Padma both stood from the sofa, each grabbing an arm and pulling up Parvati.

As they guided her up the stairs, Padma announced, “And there are so many more things you can do on a bed that you don’t have room for on a sofa. Just wait until we show you.”


End file.
